


Southern Comfort, Not So Much Pt. Five

by SamDeanMeandFreakslikeUs



Series: Southern Comfort, Not So Much [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:21:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29667894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamDeanMeandFreakslikeUs/pseuds/SamDeanMeandFreakslikeUs
Summary: Sorry it took me so long to get back to the journey.Had a few things that got in the way.First of all there was writer's blockThen there was all the movingThen there was a death in the familySo I promise I'll try to get the rest of this out quicker.  Hopefully there won't be too many more interruptions .I've decided to put this last part into chaptersHope y'all will like this last part
Series: Southern Comfort, Not So Much [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080809
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get back to the journey.  
> Had a few things that got in the way.  
> First of all there was writer's block  
> Then there was all the moving  
> Then there was a death in the family  
> So I promise I'll try to get the rest of this out quicker. Hopefully there won't be too many more interruptions .  
> I've decided to put this last part into chapters  
> Hope y'all will like this last part

Dean looked up at Castiel, puzzled concern etched on his face. 

"Cass, I... I don't understand. Some of that stuff, that was goin' through Sammy's head, I never said any of that. Why's he think I would ever say that kind of stuff to him?" Dean asked. 

"I do not have an answer for that, Dean. But right now we need to concentrate on getting your brother away from whatever destructive hold has on him. " Castiel answered, with an irritated concerned attitude. The Angel was irritated with Dean's considerable focus on what he had heard in Sam's mind, when what was truly important, at the moment, was Sam's soul. They could deal with the rest later. 

"Dean, your brother is lost in all of his memories of not standing up to his big brother's expectations. I do not know what part of all of what we heard in there is accurate, but some of it must be true, because it had to have come from somewhere. "Castiel did not want to take the time, they did not have, to go into the parts that he knew was Zachariah's involvement. All that could be taken care of after they got Sam out of his subconscious. 

Dean lowered his head, closing his eyes, more guilt swamped through him. It was true, he had said some of those things, not even considering, or caring what it might be doing to Sam. He had been more concerned with Sam choosing that demon bitch over him, and keeping secrets from him about the demon blood, and how he had been using his powers. Then when Sam had been straight with him about not looking for him, and why, and what he had actually done, Dean had treated Sam with contempt, tried to kill him, and drove him away with his words. Why wouldn't Sam conjure up a bunch of negative things he figured his big brother felt about him. But Cass was right. He needed to stop worrying about what Sam was remembering, or conjuring up, right now and help his brother. 

"You're right, Cass." Dean admitted, looking back up at the Angel. "But how the hell am I suppose to "Find Sam" Dean asked, finger quotes in the air. "You got some kinda Heavenly mojo that'll..."

"I can transfer your consciousness into Sam's mind, but your will must be, and stay, strong. Because what was going on in there is still going on. And it might take a while to find him. As dark as it is in Sam's mind, he is buried very deep in his subconscious. You cannot waiver, Dean. You cannot get angry, disappointed, discouraged, or feel any kind of emotion other than determined love for your brother. Because what you feel in there, Sam will feel and know it is coming from you. This will cause Sam to digress from wanting to live even more than he already does. Can you do that, Dean?"

Dean didn't have to think about it, even for a second. Of course he could do this. Other then his dad, he had been caring for nothing, or no one, but Sammy all his life, piece of cake. 

"No problem. " he answered with confidence. 

Castiel hoped Dean's confidence was not premature. 

"When you are ready, I shall proceed. "

Dean nodded he was ready, and sat down on the bed beside Sam's legs. 

You will need to lie down, as your body shall not be conscious for this. " Castiel advised. 

Dean nodded his understading, and laid down beside his brother, pulling Sam as close to himself as he could, in an attempt to let his little brother know he was there protecting him, just like he had, so many years ago, promised to do, as the Angel prepared his grace to make the transference. 

As Castiel reached out to put his hand on Dean's forehead, Dean pulled away, catching the Angel off guard. 

Dean, what the hell?" Castiel exclaimed, his face twisting into an angry irritated mask.

For the third time, since the Angelic being had came back into the hunter's life, Dean was taken aback, but this time he was also taken by surprise at how much the Angel had just sounded like Sam. And was that one of Sammy's classic bitch-faces, or was that just his imagination? A leftover side effect from drunken guilt perhaps? If the Angel noticed the shock on Dean's face, he made no attempt to acknowledge the fact. 

"You needed to get to Sam days ago. Why are you wanting to procrastinate?" 

"You're gonna be in there with me, right?" Dean asked, a pleading look coming to light on his worried face. 

"You will have to do this on your own." and with that Castiel placed a hand on Dean's forehead and one on Sam's, not wanting to waste anymore time explaining things to the elder Winchester. 

Dean was bombarded with the monologue of his own voice. 

For a moment Dean crouched down, his eyes clenched shut, hands tightly covering his ears, forcing his mind to a simpler, more innocent time in his and Sam's life. So he wouldn't have to acknowledge all that was going on in Sam's mind. 

Dean stood, and began looking for Sam's soul, as memories began to replay in his mind. 

"I'm gonna find you Sammy." Dean's seven year old self taunted playfully. "You can't hide from me. I'm older and bigger then you. And I know all the hiding places in uncle Bobby's yard." Dean chided, knowing exactly where his three year old little brother had gone to hide. It was where Sammy always hid, when they were at Bobby's, even when Sammy was upset about something. But when they were playing hide-n-seek, Dean would look other places, just to make it more fun for Sammy. And so he could hear Sammy's giggle. He loved that sound more then anything, even the sound of the Impala's engine. But Dean would never admit to the second reason. 

Sammy giggled, as he waited, inside a large truck tire, for his big brother to find him. 

It was one of the times when their dad had left them with Bobby Singer, so he could hunt down a Wendigo. Bobby was suppose to train with Dean, at hand to hand combat, but Bobby had too much work to do in his garage, and told Dean to keep an eye on his little brother. Sammy had wanted to play hide-n-seek. Dean let Sammy hide first, because he knew that it would take Sammy longer to find him then it would for him to find Sammy. 

As Dean got closer to the tire Sammy got quiet, as he could hear his brother's footsteps. When he got to the tire, Dean stood, looking around. 

"Well crap, Sammy. Ya seem to have found the one place around here that I don't know about. Awesome job there, little brother. How'd ya do that?"

Sammy tried to hold in the laugh, trying to escape his lips, but a tiny squeak of a giggle escaped anyway, and Dean squatted down, looked in the tire, and proclaimed, "I finally found ya squirt, " as he tickled Sammy's belly. 

Sammy squealed with delight, and laughed as Dean continued to tickle him, claiming that Dean was gonna make him pee his pants. 

"Baby Sammy's gonna pee his pants." Dean sing-songed as he continued to tickle Sammy a few more seconds. 

"I not baby!" Sammy yelled indignantly. 

Dean pulled back, laughing admiringly at his little brother. 

"I fulls yous." Sammy proclaimed. "Yous coodn't fines me. Yous says it yousself. I do awsums job." as Dean helped the indignant young man out of the tire. 

Dean smiled proudly at the small boy, ruffled Sammy's hair, put his arm around his brother's shoulder, and said, "Ya sure did little man. I'm proud of ya. If ya hadn't of giggled, I never would have found ya."

Sammy looked up at the older boy, a huge dimpled smile lighting up his small trusting face. 

"Wealy!?" his tone laced with pride at making his hero proud, and having that same hero call him a man. 

Dean nodded, a proud smile on his face, a twinkle in his green eyes. 

"I gonna havs to keeps dose supid gigsal inzize," Sammy said, his small face scrunched up in a very consentrative expression. "soes yous coodn't fines me no mos."

It saddened Dean when he realized that was the last time he had heard Sammy giggle when Sammy was hiding from him, and the last time Sammy hid inside that tire. 

Remembering what Cass had told him, Dean did his best to stay focused on their good childhood memories, as he continued to search for his brother. 

Memories of watching a five year old Sammy, running around in a park in Tulsa, Oklahoma, laughing and shouting in excitement as he played chase with a few other boys he had made friends with. Sammy at seven, excited and proud when he finally won a race against his big brother. Dean would never tell Sammy that he had let him win. The elated look on his Sammy's face was worth the secret. Sammy's excitement on his first day of the first grade. "I'm gonna get really smart now. Just like you, Dee!" Sammy had proclaimed, dimpled smile from ear to ear, looking up at his hero. 

Dean knew Sammy would run circles around him and everyone else, in academia. 

Dean continued to let fond memories of Sammy run through his mind as he looked for his brother, but it felt like he had been looking for days. He was beginning to worry that he might never find Sam. 

It seemed to be getting darker, if that was even possible, and the commentary of accusations were getting louder. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean tried to stay focused on the memories of his little brother giggling, and found Sammy taking his first steps. 

"That's it Sammy! You're doin' it! Knew ya could, little guy! Wait'll daddy sees what ya can do, Sammy! He'll be so proud!" a very excited and proud five year old Dean encouraged a very happy, giggling nine month old Sammy. 

Dean saw a very small, very faint shimmer of blue-white light in the distance, and slowly started walking towards it. He couldn't believe that this very small, almost dim, light was Sammy's soul. When Death had shown up in Bobby's panic room, producing the beautiful, brilliant blueish-white orb, that was Sammy's soul, Dean had, had to close his eyes because of how brightly it had shown. This small orb was like a three watt bulb.

'How can this possibly be Sammy?' Dean thought, as he continued his slow trek towards it. 

Suddenly the giggles stopped, tears ran down baby Sammy's face, and a voice, that was much more mature than it should have been said.

"Dean, I'm so, so sorry. I would give anything... Anything to take it all back."

Dean was stopped dead in his tracks, as the memory of a dark night, outside in a hospital parking lot, filled his mind and emotions. 

"You were the one I depended on the most, and you let me down in ways that I can't even... I'm just... I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. I just don't... I don't think that we can ever be what we were. I just don't think I can trust you." He heard himself say. 

Dean closed his eyes, as all the old hurt, disappointment, and distrust came flooding back drowning him like a title wave. 

Suddenly there was absolutely no sound at all. The monologues stopped, and "Silent as the grave " took on a whole new meaning. 

Dean slowly opened his eyes. The blueish-white light no longer shimmered, and was nothing but a very, very dim light, which Dean had to strain his eyes to see. 

As Dean walked slowly towards the ever dimming light, he was able to make out the image of a small tattered and torn bald figure, cowering in a naked ball. 

The small figure slowly unfolded himself, stood shakily on his small bloody toeless feet, and faced his big brother, tears and snot streaming down his face. 

Dean began to run, his heart breaking, as he viewed the broken, battered and tortured body of what looked to be a nine year old Sam.

"You're right, Dean. I'm sorry. I hope someday you will forgive me." Sam whispered in the silence, just barely loud enough for Dean to hear. Then there was a loud gunshot..... The very, very dim light was gone. 

Dean's mind reeled with shock, as realization, of what just happened, hit him like a Mac truck going a hundred and fifty mph.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the last chapter was kind of short and this one's really, really short, but I promise the last two will make up for them

Dean sat up screaming hoarsely, his throat raw and soar, as if he had been screaming for hours, tears and snot pouring down his face. He turned to the body lying next to him and began shaking it slightly, patting Sam's face gently but urgently, pleading with his brother to wake up. There was no response. There wasn't going to be a response. Response was totally gone. 

Dean paid no attention to the Angel telling him that his efforts were not going to bring Sam back. That his brother was gone, and there was not anything Dean could do to bring him back. 

When gentle patting and prodding had no effect, Dean began to, violently, shake the lifeless body, demanding Sammy to wake up. 

Sammy wasn't going to wake up, no matter how adamantly Dean demanded, or how violently he shook his brother's body. 

Dean whirled around, his tear streaked face sat with determination. 

"BRING HIM BACK! CASS! BRING SAMMY BACK!"he yelled demandingly. 

"Why?" the Angel asked, his head cocked to one side in confusion. Castiel did not understand why the man wanted someone, that was such a disappointment to him, back in his life. "You are so disappointed in Sam. Why do you want him back? So you can feel better about yourself, by continuing to cause Sam to feel like a failure, a disappointment?" The Angel shot back. "Can you not let the man rest in peace?" And with that Castiel vanished. 


	4. Chapter 4

Just like back in Cold Oak, Dean had no idea what he was supposed to do now. He wouldn't even be able to make a deal to bring his brother back this time, and he screamed in pain. His pain quickly turned to angry violence, and the room took all the brunt of it.

By the time Dean exhausted himself, the only thing that wasn't busted, broken, or turned upside down, was the bed his little brother's body was laying on. 

Dean crumpled, prostrate, to the floor beside the bed Sammy was laying on, his hands covering his face, deep mournful cries tearing from his chest. He had no more words, no more excuses, no more apologies. Only tears and pain.

He suddenly rose, sitting on his heels, took in a shuttering breath, pulled his gun from the waist band of his pants, let out the breath slowly, and put the barrel in his mouth. He didn't shut his eyes as his finger squeezed the trigger. 

The gun went flying across the room just as the gun fired. The next thing Dean saw was Castiel's very angry face, then the world went dark. 

When consciousness returned to the hunter, Dean's thoughts were a fuzzy bundle of memories. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings. At first he thought he was still unconscious, dreaming. Then he realized he wasn't, as the memories came flooding back. The Spector case, what Garth had told him he had done, and then Cass....and Sam. Being in Sam's mind, what Sam remembered, a gunshot. Putting his gun in his mouth. Then the Angel's angry face. 

_'Is that why I'm in a padded room?'_ Dean thought, as he struggled to sit up on the bed looking around, then he realized he was trussed up in a straight jacket. 

"CASS! YOU DAMN SONOVABITCH! GET YOUR FEATHERED ASS DOWN HERE! RIGHT THE FUCK....!"

"DEAN!" the Angel's gravelly voice boomed throughout the room, possibly throughout the entire universe, causing Dean to spin around, and jump backwards into the wall, eyes wide, mouth opened in frightened surprise. 

"What the hell, Cass?" Dean exclaimed after his heart went back to where it belonged, his bound arms clutching his chest tightly. "You tryin' ta give me a heart attack?"

Castiel tried to roll his eyes, as he had seen the Winchesters do on numerous occasions, but it was more of a head roll. 

"I was attempting to get your attention." Castiel said with a sigh. "If I had wanted you to die, I would have let you splatter your brains all over that motel room."

Dean was beginning to believe that Castiel was beginning to be more human than Angelic being. He had certainly developed the sarcastic part of humanity anyway. 

"Then why didn't you?" The hunter growled. "Cause you certainly didn't have any problem leavin' Sammy dead!"

"I did not leave Sam anywhere!" Castiel informed. "I was not the one who drove Sam to the choice he made!"

"You left! Didn't even try to bring....!"

"I went to find where Sam's soul was taken, because he was not in his vessel or anywhere in that room! I could not bring him back, if I had no idea where he had been taken!"

"Then why didn't you just tell me what you were gonna do? Then I wouldn't have freaked out!"

"Because I was irritated!"

"That's a human emotion, Cass. I thought Angels weren't suppose to feel..."

"That, Dean Winchester is how incenastu you can be!" the Angel accused, pointing a finger at the hunter.

"And since when do Angels have to sneeze? Gesundheit, by the way."

Castiel threw his arms up, in the universal, "I give up "

"So did you find Sammy's soul? Did you bring it back? Will he wake up soon?" Dean inquired, "Where is Sammy anyway? And while you're at it, can ya get me outta this fuckin cacoon, and outta this....?"

"No."

"What? What'd ya mean, no? You just gonna...?"

"Yes. This is where humans belong when they try to take their own lives, isn't it?" the Angel reminded. 

"And what doctor authorized my being in here?"

Castiel looked his charge in the eyes, with determination, and replied, "I did."

"Oh,so all the sudden you're able to diagnose the human psyche now, huh?" Dean asked with a smirk. "Did you get a PhD or something? Cause the last time I checked, you couldn't tell me if Sam was gonna wake up when Death put his soul back."

"Ita, Dean, hoc est quod accidit quod vos vivet apud humanity. Vos discite quomodo cope ad vitam et quid facere quod non tibi licet. Et earn PhD."

Dean looked affronted.

"Did you just make some kind of reference to my face not havin some kind of fancy education, Cass? Cause if you're bringin' up whose looks're gonna get the really hot chicks. Dude you're playin' way outta your league."

Giving Dean the best Sam bitch-face he could fashion, Castiel wanted to hit the hunter over the head with his own GED certificate. 

"Are you going to try anything like that again?" Castiel asked, exasperated. 

"I will if you don't get me the hell outta here, and take me to Sammy." Dean replied. "And you never answered my question."

"No Dean, I did not make any kind of reference to your face or your education." the Angel replied. 

Dean rolled his eyes, and said, struggling to get out of the straitjacket, "I'm talkin' about Sammy, you idiot. Did you find out where....?"

"No."

"Where'd you look? Did you check....?"

"Everywhere, Dean. I talked with Death..."

"The Horsemen?" Dean interrupted. 

Castiel nodded. "If anyone would know where Sam's soul went, it would be Death."

"And he doesn't know? What the hell....?"

"Death knows, but he will not tell anyone."

"Why the hell not?" Dean interjected angrily. 

"Death said he is respecting Sam's wishes."

"Sam's wishes?" Dean echoed unquestioningly, "And what the hell's Death know about what Sammy wants?" His anger starting to burn at the way these supernatural dickheads were trying to make him look like an idiot, and keep him away from his little brother. He needed to get to Sammy, make sure Sammy was alright, keep Sammy safe, and they were, once again, keeping him from his job. His only purpose for existing. 

"Sammy wanted to be just like his hero, his big brother. Sam, however, knew that was never going to be possible, so he wanted Death to send him someplace where he could never disappoint his brother, or hurt anyone ever again." Castiel informed the hunter. 

Dean crumbled to the floor, sitting hard on his butt, staring off into a void of nothingness. His Sammy was gone, and it was all his fault. He had failed at keeping Sammy safe. Failed at his job. Failed his dad. He no longer had any purpose. 

The Angel tried to bring Dean back from the darkness of his own subconscious, just like his brother had been, but was unsuccessful. 

Castiel could have left his charge in the mental hospital, and let the humans care for the man, but he did not want that for his friend, and it would not be fair to the doctors and staff, as they would have no information on what had caused Dean's trauma. So the Angel did the only thing he could think to do to rectify the situation. 


	5. A New Beginning, A Better Life (Hopefully)

The pleasures the Double Mint Twins were showering on him was causing Dean to moan and growl in his sleep, loudly enough for his room-mate, Darral, to chuckle as he made coffee in the kitchen of their two bedroom apartment, in Odessa, Texas. 

"Double Mints strike again." Darral snickered, pouring a bowl of Fruit Loops. "Hope he gets to finish this time, it's almost time for the alarm. He's such a little PMS bitch when he gets interrupted."

As the word interrupted came from Darral's lips, Steppenwolf's Born To Be Wild blared from the alarm clock radio, beside Dean's head, causing him to sit straight up in bed, holding his rock hard shaft, screaming loud enough for any neighbor to hear, possibly the entire block, as he, prematurely ejaculated all over himself and the sheet he was laying on. The blanket and top sheet had been flung to the floor, as they were no longer needed, as his interlude had continued to heat up. 

"MOTHERFUCKIN' SONOFABITCH!!!" the twenty-five year old mechanic screamed, throwing the clock radio across the room, hitting the wall, causing a large portion of plaster to fall, along with the pieces of the broken radio, to the floor. 

"Gonna need a new alarm clock?" Darral enquired, as a very grumpy Dean came into the kitchen, going for the coffee pot. 

"And fix the big fuckin' hole in the wall." Dean added, blowing over the top of his mug. 

"Dude, if yer that hard up, maybe get a blow-up or somethin'." his room-mate teased. "No need ta fuck-up the walls like that. Or maybe try poundin' the floor, with that iron dic ya got there. Floor's alot more durable."

"Shut-up, Asshole!" Dean growled. "It was the radio, Dumb-ass!"

"You were poundin' the radio?" Darral smirked raising one eye-brow, knowing exactly what his room-mate was talking about, but just couldn't help himself. 

Dean's nostrils were flaring, and Darral could swear he could see steam emerging from Dean's nose. 

' _Best to drop it.'_ Darral counseled himself. ' _Before I wind-up with a busted-up face.'_ And wondered if now was such a good time to tell the already angry man that his Mother had called earlier with information that his dad was flying in from Stanford tomorrow. Dean had left California, specifically, to get away from his Father controlling his life. Darral remembered Dean's exact words. 

" _That hard-ass is one controlling bastard. Thinks he has ta control every aspect of everyone's life. Don't see how mom's put up with him for all these years. That has got ta be some hella love she's got there."_

Darral decided he should give his best friend a heads-up. 

"Ummm, if ya think ya can handle more bad news, yer mom called while you were..." Darral cleared his throat. "occupied."

"Well if she called to inform that the bastard's dead, then ya just made my day a whole lot happier." Dean said, slapping Darral on the back, as he started to leave the kitchen to take a shower, and get ready for work at Barney's Garage. 

"Ummm....no. The bastard's flyin' in tomorrow."

Dean stopped in mid-step.

"He's coming here?" Dean asked, turning to face his friend. 

"Fraid so. Said he should be here around noon." Darral answered, a concerned look on his face. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'll just pack-up n leave the country." Dean replied, his shoulders slumping almost to the floor. He felt so defeated. "How the hell'd the old fuck-wad find out where I'm at in the first place?"

Darral shrugged, shaking his head. "Ya know, ya really just need ta stand up to yer old man, and let him know..."

"That it's my life, and he should just stay the hell outta it. Yeah, I know. But I just.... Ya know?"

"I know ya need ta use those over-sized cojones, and just man-up."

Dean looked like he was about to throw his irritating room-mate out a window. 

"What'd ya mean over-sized balls? You callin' me a freak or somethin'?"

"No. But if ya can pound a hole in the..."

"Dammit Darral!" Dean yelled slamming his fist into the door frame. "I told you the fuckin' radio made the hole!"

Darral raised his eye-brows in a silent, "And if it hadn't been thrown at the wall? So who made the hole?"

Dean just glared, turned on his heels, and went to get ready for work. 

"And no, I wasn't sayin" yer a freak." Darral called, as Dean shut the bathroom door. "But yer a coward when it comes to yer dad." he added under his breath. 

Dean's day had started out in not so great a way, and only seemed to get worse, which he did not think could happen. What could be worse than finding out his dad had found out where he had moved to, and was coming, to more than likely drag him back home. Or try to anyway. 

First Dean spilled, all but half a quart of a five gallon jug of, very expensive motor oil, while changing the oil in a 2002 Sonoma. Then forgot to put the radiator plug back in when he was flushing the radiator of a 2004 Mercedes, wasting almost a whole gallon of antifreeze. There was an over charge on a credit card, and an under charge on a cash sale. Barney was almost ready to send his best mechanic home for the rest of the day. So he told Dean to just clean the bathrooms and windows. He didn't want to cause the kid to loose any time on the job. Dean was a good kid, a hard worker, knew pretty much all there was to know about cars and what he didn't know, he always asked him about, and the kid kept his nose clean. Barney figured there wasn't any way Dean could possibly cost him any more money doing windows or cleaning toilets. 

Dean was a sucker for classic muscle cars, and as he was finishing the windows a shiny dark blood-red '69 Dodge Charger pulled up to the gas pumps. 

" _Maybe my day's startin' to turn around.'_ Dean thought, as he started walking towards the car, admiring the beauty and condition she was in, and wondered about what was under her hood. 

A tall, six foot two inch, very muscular, rather confident, kid, with shaggy chestnut hair that went down a foot past his broad shoulders, ragged blue jeans, long enough that the guy was able to walk on the bottoms, a black t-shirt, that fit very snug over his tanned muscular torso, unfolded himself out of the driver's side, and walked, with purpose, to a gas pump. 

Dean could not hold himself back. He had to find out if she was as good on the inside as she was on the outside. 

"Oh man, that's an awesome ride ya got there." Dean commented as he got closer to the car. "Looks like she's been kept in awesome condition too."

The guy didn't acknowledge that he was even there until Dean asked if the guy would mind if he took a look at what was under the hood. 

Hard hazel eyes were glaring when he looked into anxious excited green ones. The harden hazels turned to shocked surprise, something akin to recognition, for less than an instant, so fast Dean wasn't sure that's what he saw. Then the hardness was accompanied by what looked like dangerous anger.

"Yes I do mind." The guy snapped, shoving his credit card into his back pocket, got into his car, and peeled out of the parking lot. 

Dean took another guess at his day turning around. 

Death turned his head, cocking it to one side, looking at the Angel. 

Castiel did not look at the Father of Reapers, but he knew Death was assessing his choice of putting Dean in his twenty-five year old body, and dropping him smack in the middle of the life Death had chosen for the younger of the Winchester siblings. 

The Angel sighed, which irritated Death alittle. Castiel was an Angel, not a human, but Death supposed that spending as much time with the species as Castiel had, the Angel was bound to pick up some, if only a small amount, of their mannerisms. So Death decided not to inquire as to why Castiel thought it necessary to do something so....human.

Castiel cleared his throat, not because he needed to, he had seen the Winchesters do it when they faced a particularly difficult situation, and thought it might make it easier to confront Death. It did not. 

"I shall remove Dean and place him elsewhere." Castiel started. "But if I may be bold. You could have told me where you had put Sam, then I would not have put Dean here in the first place."

"And I was just suppose to automatically know what you were going to choose to do? Why didn't you just leave him where he was?" Death enquired. "And I am not talking about the hospital."

"So you were watching." Castiel said, trying to keep the anger from his tone. The Angel did not want to be reaped, not just yet. He was tired. Not physically tired, Angels do not get tired physically, but they can tire from having their grace drained, and the Winchesters had been a rather draining force in the time the Angel had been with them. Castiel had learned a lot about family from the brothers and was going to miss interacting with them, even though he would still watch over them and intervene, secretly, when necessary. But it had always made him happy to be able to interact with the Winchesters, it made him feel as though he belonged, was loved and wanted, not just an expendable soldier. Someone easley replaced. 

Death assessed the Seraph a little closer, and although he considered it appalling, he thought he might understand. 

"So do you wish to fall, as Anna did?" Death inquired. No accusations, or disgust in his attitude. 

Castiel did not look at the entity asking the question, nor did he answer for a long moment. And then he did both.

"After placing Dean, I thought about what it would be like to be human. Anna certainly seemed to consider it a much better way of life. And I could be with the Winchesters till I died, or they did. But after much counseling of myself, I decided it would not be a wise course of action. I am an Angel, that is what I was created to be. I believe I would "screw it up" if I tried to be human. When we try to be someone, or something we are not created to be, things get messy, and we lose who we are, and our created purpose. So no. I do not wish to be human. Also, as an Angel, I shall be able to help the brothers much more efficiently."

Death looked at the Angel with renewed admiration. He thought Castiel had just surpassed his superiors, in wisdom, ten fold.

"And how did you come to this surprisingly wise choice?" Death asked, curiously. 

The Angel got a far away look in his eyes, smiled admiringly and answered. 

"By watching the Winchesters."

Death nodded. "I do not think it a wise choice to keep erasing their memories and changing their lives. It might lead to more brain damage, or dare I say, more insanity. We should, perhaps, leave them here. And perhaps you should do just as you suggest, and watch over them. But please, do not mess with the time continuum, too much." Death advised, as he turned to leave. 

"Wait." Castiel said, turning to inquire of something that had been worrying him. 

Death turned, looking a little put out. "What is it?"

"I do not know exactly what Father wants of me. I do not know how or why I was rescued from Purgatory." Castiel said, looking like a lost lamb.

Death wanted nothing more than to shoo the Angel away like an annoying insect, but he figured it would be more trouble for him, his reapers, and the sisters of fate if he left the annoying insect to his own council. So he said. "Do not worry yourself about that. I am sure if God wants you to be doing something else, He would let you know."

Death then turned, again, to leave. "And under no circumstances try to fix anything without very wise counsel." he added, then vanished. 

Death had decided that he would keep abreast of this situation, himself, and intervene when necessary. Secretly he admired the Angel for stepping out of the Heavenly's senseless attempts to destroy humanity, and thinking for himself. Even if that self needed the council of some human wisdom, most of the time. And he had to admit to himself, but absolutely no one else, that he had a soft spot for the Winchesters. They had both exceeded, even his expectations, to do what needed to be done, even if it meant sacrificing themselves. His admiration for, "Team Free Will" as they called themselves, had him convinced that the world, any time line, was better off with the Winchesters in it than without. And the Angel, Castiel, would be of great importance in their lives. 

Death wasn't sure why Sam had recognized Dean, another reason to keep an eye on the continuation of the Winchester's lives, so he decided his second intervention would be to add Dean Winchester to Sam Winchester's story. His first, would be to take the appropriate, and very necessary, steps to ensure that those "Winged asshats" as he had heard Dean refer to them as, (Death rather liked the sound of the frase, and thought it fit quite well in reference to the other members of the Heavenly Host) did not interfere by coming after Castiel or the Winchesters. 

The End 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all liked the little twist ending, there is a reason for it.  
> This journey seems to have turned into a prequel to a journey I started writing about three years ago and has given me a reason to finish it and get it posted.  
> Hope y'all stay tuned for this next journey in the Winchester story  
> Thanks for all the kudos, and for takin' this journey

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all y'all that are taking this journey and for the kudos and comments 
> 
> I have no claim to Supernatural or it's characters


End file.
